


Wired Wrong: Chapter 3

by ash_carpenter



Series: Wired Wrong [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Daddy Issues, Gangbang, Humiliation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Parent/Child Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 19:45:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_carpenter/pseuds/ash_carpenter





	Wired Wrong: Chapter 3

  
**Chapter 3**  


 

John had entreated, reasoned and finally ordered Sam to honour Dean’s wishes and leave him alone for a while. Of course, it had all flowed over Sam like water and he’d finally tracked his errant brother to some kind of seedy club on the outskirts of Des Moines, a couple of hours from where he’d left them.

Despite the fact that he’d been right that Dean wasn’t in any fit state to be by himself, a part of him wished that he’d listened to John for once.

He’d looked around the club three times before reluctantly acknowledging that Dean had to be in one of the not-so-private basement rooms, and he’d steeled himself for finding Dean engaged in something sordid and self-destructive. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted his eyes.

Dean was on his hands and knees on the floor, naked, surrounded by five men – with God knew how many gawking spectators at the periphery. He was bleeding, skin red and beginning to purple where he’d been smacked countless times. As he tried to push himself to his feet, one of the men slammed a boot hard into his ribs and he crashed back to the ground with a loud shout. Sam noted then that most of the men had minor injuries too, as though Dean had gotten in a few punches.

Sam didn’t kid himself that Dean had been trying to get away though; if so, there was no way that all of the guys would still be standing, let alone groping at their cocks. No, it was definitely consensual, at least as far as the lawyer in him cared to interpret the word.

“Stay there on the fucking floor, where you belong,” sneered one of the guys, crouching down to slap Dean’s face a couple of times. His right eye was already puffy and closing, face streaked with tear tracks and come through the film of dirt.

“Yeah,” said another, falling to his knees with his dick in hand and grabbing at one of Dean’s ass cheeks. “Good little whores stay where they’re put.” He pulled it to the side to expose his hole, and Sam could see that Dean had already been used. Dean tried to lash out when spit hit his ass, but the other men were on him too, snatching at his ankles and his hair.

“Do you like that, pretty boy?” asked the one shaking him via a tight grip on the back of his neck. “Want another cock in your ass, huh? You love it so fuckin’ much, I should make you beg.”

Dean cried out as the guy behind fucked into him with a rending thrust, futilely struggling against the hold of the others. Within another few seconds, one had yanked Dean’s head up into his lap and forced his cock between swollen lips. Sam saw Dean gag, then noticed that the new position revealed something else as well: Dean was hard. Sam had already known that it must be the case, but it was still shocking and sickening.

It was what finally galvanised him into action.

He shouldered his way through the onlookers in his path, many of them touching themselves or taking video clips with their phones, and kicked the man fucking Dean so hard in the face that he landed three feet away, unconscious. Surprised and frightened, the others backed off in a hurry.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” someone demanded. “You can have a turn.”

Enraged, Sam punched the asshole in the sternum, sending him to the floor fighting for breath.

“Sam,” croaked Dean, anger and shame battling in his tear-washed eyes. “This is none of your business.”

“The hell it fucking isn’t,” said Sam. He knew that it wasn’t these men’s fault that Dean had gone out looking for pain and degradation, getting off on being brought low, but that didn’t prevent the rage or hate. In a way, knowing that it was his own fault made everything worse.

No-one tried to challenge him as he stood over Dean. They’d all just come for fun – to drink and fuck, not to get into a fight with a large man who looked about ready to rip someone’s head off.

Sam looked down at his brother, battered face pressed to the filthy floor, and other men’s marks and bodily fluids staining him. He felt both pity and disgust, but he also couldn’t get past how furious he was with Dean for putting himself at risk. Nor how furious he was with himself and his father for driving a person they loved to such insanity.

“Get up and get dressed,” he ordered coldly. He would take care of his brother – whether Dean liked it or not – but it was going to be far away from where he’d let himself get gangbanged like a little bitch for anyone to watch.

Dean chuckled against the floor, vicious and bitter. “You could at least have let me come.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not even sparing his stolen car a second thought, Sam peeled away from the club in the Impala with Dean slumped in the passenger seat, tired and mutinous.

Sam was too angry to speak during the short journey until he found them an out of the way motel, far off the highway and barely occupied. His first words were to snap at Dean to wait in the car while he got them a room.

As soon as the door to the shabby little suite shut, he whirled on his brother, narrowly resisting the urge to hit him or throw him up against a wall.

“What the hell were you doing in that place? You could have been seriously hurt!”

Dean shrugged and sat down on one of the beds, toeing off his boots and wincing as he tossed his jacket aside. “So? What do you care?”

“Don’t be an ass, Dean! Of course I care.”

“Yeah, you and Dad are both so concerned with my well-being, huh?”

Sam managed to meet his gaze, although he felt renewed shame and remorse. “I know it hurts. I should have told you. Fuck, I should have made sure he never put his grubby hands on you in the first place. But, man... However upset you are, that doesn’t mean you can put yourself in danger like that.”

“I was fine.”

Sam pursed his lips and gestured at Dean’s face. “Yeah, looks like it.” He stomped off to the bathroom to wet a washcloth, shouting over his shoulder, “I’ll bet you told yourself you were fine the first time your own father fucked you too. I know I did.”

Dean was silent, and when Sam returned to the room he found his brother glaring into the distance, probably unwilling to face what Sam was saying.

“How did he do it?” pressed Sam. “You said you were drunk?” Sam approached the bed slowly, sitting down next to Dean and watching warily for any indication that he was going to get a violent reaction. When his brother remained still and stony, he gently touched the washcloth to his face.

Dean barely flinched at the sting. Tonelessly, he replied, “I blew him one night, not long after you left. And, yeah, we were both wasted and I was the one who started it. But then the next morning...”

“What?” said Sam, holding his breath as he waited for the answer. He wiped a smear of what was probably semen from Dean’s chin.

“He rolled on top of me while I was still sleeping. Pinned me down. Fucked me. I cried against that mattress, but I never tried to get away – and I came so fucking hard. I was confused. But having that was better than having nothing at all. So.” He turned to scrutinise Sam. “And what about you? I hope I’m right that he never forced you because I _will_ kill him.”

“No. It wasn’t all that different, really. I pushed and I wanted it, but... I don’t think I knew what I’d get, or how it would feel. I hate him for what he did to me. To both of us.”

Dean reached up and wrapped his fingers around Sam’s wrist, stilling the soft, sweeping motion of the cloth. “Then why did I walk in on you two making out like lovesick teenagers?”

Sam grimaced and cast his eyes down. “That was… Honestly, I think that was about you.”

“What?”

“He promised me that he’d leave you alone. No, don’t look at me like that: it wasn’t that I wanted him to myself or something. I just wanted something better for you. Anyway, I confronted him because I saw a hickey on your neck and I knew it was him, that he did it to flaunt what you two had been doing. Somehow, we got to talking about you and…”

“And what?” asked Dean. He looked as though he was ready to go on the defensive and Sam sighed.

“And how the stuff with Dad isn’t just about sex for you, not really.”

“Oh, so you’re a mind reader now? And then, what, you two bonded over talking behind my back and ended up snuggling? Man, I’m such an idiot! I’m just some plaything for him, huh? Something he used when he couldn’t have what he really wanted. I wondered why he abandoned me, and I guess now I know. I just wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t _you_.”

“Dean…”

“And you! Thinking you know what’s best for me. Pitying me.”

“Well, you need someone to look out for you!” countered Sam, some of his anger returning. “Look where I found you tonight. Letting guys take turns at you like a pack of dogs, because you were so hurt by finding out that your father had ‘cheated’ on you with your brother. Do you have any goddamned idea how messed up that it?!”

“Yeah, Sam, I get it. But I came to terms with the incest thing long ago. I told you: I’m just wired wrong. The stuff I like is messed up, and I can handle that – so you shouldn’t try to ‘save’ me or whatever. You should go back to Dad, let me do what I gotta tonight, and I’ll join you both tomorrow.”

Sam shook his head grimly, wrapping his hand around Dean’s jaw and tilting him to the light so that he could swipe away the last of the grime. Dean rolled his eyes but allowed it.

“You’re not going back out there to get gang-fucked, no matter how much degradation you’re looking for or how badly you need to get off. It’s stupid, and you need to be healthy for hunting the demon.”

“So, what?” sneered Dean, twisting his face out of Sam’s grasp. “Are you gonna do it for me?”

Sam blinked stupidly. “Do what?” His eyes widened as Dean’s’ meaning dawned on him. He stammered for a moment then firmed his jaw, meeting his brother’s eyes. “Anything’s better than you letting strangers treat you like a whore. So, yeah, if you’re that hard up, then I’ll help you out.”

They stared at each other for a moment, both holding their breath. Sam though perhaps they’d both been bluffing, but something strange was happening, heat and recognition sparking between them in the charged atmosphere. Sam reviewed his words and realised that the sentiment had been true after all: he’d do any twisted thing his brother needed if it meant keeping him safe from other people – and himself.

“Sam,” said Dean, his voice intended to be warning but just a little too husky to carry it off. He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t serious. This is a bad idea. I don’t want you to be –”

“Messed up?” Sam laughed bitterly. “You know what Dad’s like. That kiss you saw? That’s about the most tender thing that’s ever happened between us. He used to beat my ass and make me hurt inside for days, and I’d just scream for more. You think _you’re_ wired wrong? Jesus.”

“Is that what you want from me? To hurt you?” said Dean, quietly. He sounded pained, as if even the idea was too much for him to bear.

“No. And it’s not what I want _for_ you either. I want you to have the kind of intimate sex that you deserve, like I only ever had with Jess. The kind where the other person loves you and takes care of you.”

“Dad loves me,” insisted Dean stubbornly, although he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anything else.

“He loves you as a father – well, as best he can. Which, let’s be honest, isn’t very good. But he doesn’t love you as a partner. Sex with us is something awful and violent, which he hates himself for. He doesn’t want to connect or be intimate; in fact, I think he finds it abhorrent.”

“I guess you’re right. So you’re saying that we should fuck because we love each other?”

Sam ran a hand over his face, marvelling at how truly screwed up they all were. And maybe Dean most of all. “I’m not saying we should do anything. Love doesn’t have to come with strings attached. But if you _want_ to do something, then…” He shrugged helplessly, trying to decipher how he’d got himself into the situation in the first place. Was he propositioning Dean? He had never really considered the idea of sleeping with Dean until he’d seen their father balls deep inside him, but he had to admit that the idea now held an appeal that he’d been trying to ignore.

Dean looked at him for a long time, then moved in to press his lips against Sam’s. It was chaste and questioning, perhaps more of a test than anything else.

Sam knew that he could gently pull away and end it all right there; Dean would certainly never speak of it again. But he didn’t really want to. He thought about how Dean looked with their father pounding into him, the sheer ecstasy on his face, and he wanted to be the person making Dean feel good. Maybe some of it was jealousy – hell, probably a lot of it was; it drove him fucking crazy how much Dean wanted their father – but he also knew that his brother would get something from him that he never would from John.

Sam cupped Dean’s face and deepened the kiss, parting his lips and letting his tongue swipe across Dean’s plush mouth. It must have hurt him a little with his freshly split lip, but he just made a soft noise and opened up for Sam, letting their tongues brush together.

Sam was almost surprised by the jolt of heat that he felt. He opened his eyes to see Dean’s lashes fanning his freckled cheeks, still beautiful even with the blooming shiner, and he rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin. Dean melted into him and Sam wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close and pressing their chests together.

Dean moaned a little and tried to angle his body even closer to Sam’s, sweeping his tongue against his brother’s in long, lush licks and nipping at his lips. Feeling slightly dizzy with the rising desire and how fast everything was suddenly moving, Sam was helpless to do anything other than respond and, before he knew it, Dean had swung a leg over his hips to straddle his lap. Sam felt the hiss of pain against his mouth as Dean’s ribs pulled and his ass gave a twinge, but Dean didn’t break stride.

Sam grabbed Dean’s ass and slotted their groins together, both of them already hard in their jeans. He felt Dean tugging at his shirts and he obligingly helped to fling them off into a corner of the room, but then he rested his forehead against his brother’s shoulder for a moment.

“I didn’t want to do this to you,” he murmured guiltily.

Dean caressed Sam’s jaw and tilted his head up so they were looking at one another. His eyes were lust-glazed and content. “You’re not doing anything _to_ me. We’re doing this together. Right?”

“Right,” agreed Sam with a small smile.

He leaned in to kiss Dean again and his brother accepted it for a moment before smirking and pushing Sam, so that his back hit the mattress. Sam watched as Dean carefully pulled his own shirts over his head, revealing the deep purple of his bruising torso. Sam would have offered to wait and do this another time, but he knew Dean would say no – and he was grateful for that. Now that they’d started, he wanted nothing more than to keep going, to see where it all led.

 

 

Once Dean’s top half was bare, he fell on top of Sam and they soon ended up frotting like teenagers on top of the scratchy covers. Sam folded his arms around Dean’s back to keep him near, their kisses turning a little sloppy as the heat and friction between them increased. It was so strange to be doing something youthful and almost-innocent, in such stark contrast to how it was with their father. All the more strange since the word “innocent” should never really be applied to a sexual act with a family member.

Dean worked his hand between their bodies and palmed over Sam’s crotch, rubbing at his shaft through the denim. They both moaned at the sensation and Dean trailed his lips over Sam’s ear, nipping at the lobe.

“Do you wanna fuck me?”

Sam shivered a little, then turned his head a little to kiss Dean reassuringly on the lips, before saying, “No.”

He felt Dean tense and tightened his grip so that his brother couldn’t pull away. “Hey, listen. You’ve already had other people inside you tonight.”

Dean nodded his head and glanced away, pulling his hand away from the front of Sam’s pants. “I get it. I’m all dirty.”

“What? No, that’s not what I mean. Look at me. Dean? Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Dean met his brother’s eyes, trying to shield the vulnerability and shame in his own, as if he could hide from Sam.

“They weren’t careful with you, right? I’m guessing you’re sore. I don’t want the first time with me to be painful for you.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.”

Dean smiled a little, a flush spreading over his cheeks. He really wasn’t used to being treated with care and didn’t quite know how to react. It made him feel both special and uncomfortable. “Okay, so… What do you wanna do? Just keep grinding on each other until we spray our pants like fifteen year olds?”

Sam laughed, snatching hold of Dean’s hips and rocking up against him for a few thrusts. “Well, embarrassingly enough, I actually think I could get there. But in the interests of our laundry and our dignity, why don’t you just fuck me instead?”

Dean looked surprised.

“What?” asked Sam.

“I just didn’t think you’d want that. I thought…” He trailed off, glancing away for a moment.

“You thought I’d be like Dad,” said Sam in sudden understanding.

“Not exactly. But, I don’t know, I didn’t think you’d want to give up the control like that. Have you ever been topped by anyone except him?”

“No. I’ve never been with any other guy – and you’re right that I wouldn’t give it up for someone else. But, Dean, it’s different with you. I trust you.”

Dean stroked his fingers over Sam’s cheek. “Good. Me too. I gotta warn you, I only know what I’m doing in theory; I’ve never screwed a guy. I’ve only been with Dad – and then those guys tonight. Which, don’t tell me, was goddamned stupid.”

Sam nodded but didn’t berate Dean any further. Instead he stroked his large palm up and down Dean’s spine and nudged their cocks together again. “Okay, so, good. We get to learn together.”

Dean smiled and kissed him, reaching down to unfasten their pants. While making out, they awkwardly shucked their jeans and boxers and kicked them onto the motel floor along with their boots. They were finally left naked, save for their forgotten socks, and they stared at one another slightly shyly.

“I’ve seen you naked so many times,” said Dean wonderingly, “But never like this. All hot and ready, your pretty dick so big and hard, just for me.”

Sam almost whimpered as Dean touched it, gripping firmly and sliding up the silky shaft. He spread his thighs a little wider. And as Dean began to pump his cock in a slow, leisurely motion in the tight tunnel of his fist, Sam couldn’t help but thrust his hips eagerly into the sensation, pre-come dribbling out of his slit to ease the way.

Dean watched him avidly, obviously enjoying how it felt to wring the pleasurable responses out of his brother. It was nice for them both to take their time and actually _experience_ what they were doing together.

Dean sucked on his own fingers and then gently probed at Sam’s ass. Sam just relaxed and let him: they knew that it was silly to get precious about proper lubrication when they’d both taken John dry so many times over the years. As Dean first circled teasingly and then pushed one digit slowly inside, Sam bore down on the sensation, opening up for Dean.

“You’re so tight,” murmured Dean, working his finger in and out to loosen the muscle, pressing in further so that he could nudge against Sam’s prostate. He smiled at the curse he received in response.

“Give me more,” said Sam in a tone not unlike his bossy, entitled little brother tone. Still, if there was one time when he was sure that Dean would indulge him, this was it. Not that Dean ever refused him anything anyway.

“Where’s the fire?” asked Dean, voice smooth and deep and soothing. But nevertheless he added a second finger, stretching the thick walls of muscle. “That feel good?”

“Yeah,” breathed Sam, hooking his legs over Dean’s calves on the bed to give him more leverage for grinding against Dean’s hand. “Don’t keep it up for too long or I’m gonna come before you’re even inside me.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll just keep going until you’re hard again, all strung out and begging.”

“Jesus, Dean… Come on, you’re killing me here. Give me more, or harder, or somethin’.”

“Just calm down and let me take care of you.”

Dean withdrew to add more spit, but then he stepped up the pace a little, driven by both Sam’s pleas and his own arousal. The whole experience, so different from what they were used to with a man, was getting both of them off far harder than expected. The sensual exploration and sweaty, almost adolescent making out heightened every sensation, drawing out their pleasure and honing it until it cut them wide open. But the exposure wasn’t frightening, as they might have expected; they’d never had anything to hide or fear from each other. Except for the one thing that was now out in the open.

“I’m ready. Please, I’m ready, I swear,” babbled Sam, and Dean silenced him with a lingering kiss, biting softly at his lower lip.  
                                                                
“Me too,” he said, trailing his dick against Sam’s inner thigh and letting him feel how wet it was. Then he repositioned himself, leaning over Sam and taking his weight on one arm while he slipped the other between their bodies to line up the head of his cock against Sam’s hole. Sam rested one hand on his ribs, caressing lightly, and then grabbed hold of his ass with the other, urging him forwards.

It took a couple of tries before Dean got the tip inside and began to push, but then he slide all the way to the hilt with one long, slow stroke. Sam arched his back and just let Dean fill him, clutching at his slick skin as an anchor and gritting his teeth. It wasn’t overly painful, but it was a little uncomfortable and a lot intense. The zinging sparks as Dean glided against his prostate just added to the powerful sensations racking his body and he squeezed his eyes shut, only barely aware of Dean’s soothing voice and the hand stroking through his hair.

“Hey, you okay? Sammy?”

Sam nodded and opened his eyes, smiling to shift the concerned expression off Dean’s face. “I’m good. You can move. And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I promise I ain’t gonna break. So you don’t have to go too easy, okay?”

“Okay, little brother,” said Dean and they both gave a small shiver.

He kissed Sam as he began to move, taking some of his own weight on his forearms but leaving most of his body in contact with Sam’s. As worked up as they both already were, Dean didn’t bother with a slow build-up, but thrust inside hard and fast, letting his belly drag over Sam’s dick. He circled his hips a little, driving in as deep as possible, and Sam began to rise up from the mattress, his body finding a natural counter-motion. In a way, it wasn’t all that different to sparring: Sam had an inbuilt awareness of Dean’s body and an almost second sense about what his next move would be. They’d always been able to anticipate one another, and while that was a pain in the ass if they were having a fight, it turned out to be damned advantageous during sex.

Dean pulled his mouth away from Sam’s, panting. “You feel incredible.”

“You too. Don’t stop. Fuck, Dean, just don’t stop.”

“Shh, I got ya.”

Dean nuzzled in under Sam’s jaw, kissing down the line of his neck and licking up the little droplets of sweat that had pooled in the hollow of his throat. His hips moved relentlessly, instinctively, and he could already feel the delicious tight coil in his belly and groin winding tighter and tighter, gearing up for the moment of release.

Sam rolled his head against the pillow, little grunts punched out of him by each of his brother’s forceful thrusts. Even though Dean wasn’t exactly treating him with kid gloves, it was still utterly different to being with John. Their sex had always felt like the culmination of a fight, which it often was, and while the sharply rising lust and powerful release were cathartic, the act had never made him feel good about himself or given him any kind of peace.

“Dean, you gotta touch me. Please?”

“Not yet. I wanna see how far you can get with just my dick. What do you think, huh, Sammy? Are you gonna be able to come like that for me?”

“Fuck…” With Dean’s gravel-rolled voice rasping in his ear and the warm puffs of his breath making Sam’s skin tingle, he thought maybe he could. “I don’t know. I’ve never…”

“But this is for me,” murmured Dean, nibbling over the shell of Sam’s ear as he changed up his rhythm a little, grinding hard against Sam’s ass.

“Christ!” yelped Sam as a bolt of pleasure slammed through him. “Okay, yeah, I think so.”

“Good boy.”

Dean arched his back, trailing kisses down Sam’s chest and then flicking his tongue over Sam’s nipple before drawing it into his mouth. Sam keened at the unexpected sensation, rutting his cock against Dean’s belly.

“Shit, Dean… Just a bit harder. C’mon, _please_.”

Dean hissed out a curse, the bit softly at the bud in his mouth. “Sam,” he said roughly, “You’re gonna make me lose it, beggin’ like that.”

“Yeah, wanna feel you come inside me. So close, Dean, so close…”

Dean slotted his mouth back against Sam’s, suddenly thrusting hard inside him with quick, forceful jerks of his hips. His dick hammered relentlessly into Sam’s sweet spot, stomach sliding over his dick on a sheen of sweat, and it was game over.

Sam almost howled as his hips bucked up off the bed and he came, shooting between their bodies. He hadn’t even finished riding out the tide of pleasure when he felt Dean’s hips stutter and then still for long moments before he involuntarily jolted forward again, the little spasms thrilling through Sam.

Eventually, Dean collapsed on top of Sam, kissing him sweetly as he gently circled his hips, enjoying the sloppy, fucked-out feel of Sam’s ass around his softening cock.

“Dean?”

“Mmm?”

“Was that…?” He cleared his throat. “That was amazing, for me. I hope for you too.”

“Are you gonna be an enormous girl now, Sam?” asked Dean, but Sam could feel the smile against his skin.

“No. Shut up, I wasn’t. I’m trying to have a moment here, dude.”

Dean chuckled, then kissed Sam’s neck and jaw. “Yeah,” he finally relented. “Me too. Love you, little brother.”

Startled, Sam felt a pleased flush warm his body. Dean wasn’t big on declarations, and Sam had actually expected him to become _worse_ than usual in the aftermath of the delicious sin they’d committed. But, weirdly, he sounded peaceful and – Sam dared to hope – happy.

Before thoughts of John could intrude (and the fact that Sam just couldn’t abide the idea of him touching Dean ever again), Sam let himself drift into a blessedly dreamless sleep, Dean still resting heavily on top.

 


End file.
